


Day 2: Domestic

by GemmaRose



Series: MegOp Week [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Discipline, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Mech Preg, Polygamy, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Running a household as large as Megatron's isn't easy. At the end of the mega-cycle, though, it's worth it.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime, Megatron/Orion Pax, Megatron/Overlord
Series: MegOp Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592986
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	Day 2: Domestic

Megatron strode through the halls of his household at a leisurely pace, hands folded behind his back. It was a far cry from the army he’d hoped to raise, when he first wound up on this Primus-forsaken planet, but they kept him busy enough he rarely had time to brood on that. A clang from one of the rooms up ahead made him sigh, and he unfolded his arms, warming but not yet charging his cannon. The door opened automatically for him, and he crossed his arms over his chest as the two Primes froze mid-fight. Optimus had a black paint transfer where his battlemask had been dented by a solid punch, and Dark Optimus had a new crack in his yellow windshield, blue paint caught in the center of the fractures.

“Primes.” Megatron crossed his arms, narrowing his optics at the nearly-identical mechs.

“He started it.” Dark Optimus said, releasing his hold on Optimus’s collar faring.

“I _defended myself_.” Optimus argued. Both their fields crackled with anger, thick enough to choke a mech less accustomed to their volatility, and Megatron briefly considered dragging the both of them off for some punishment. A Starscream was currently occupying the punishment corner, unfortunately, and that was what had proven most effective on both of them.

“Enough.” he said, raising a hand before either of them could speak again. “We have a sparring room. Go make use of it.”

Both Primes stiffened, and Megatron smirked as he turned around. The second best punishment for these two, after the public humiliation of the corner station, was denial. They would run up a charge grappling, and Megatron would decline to let them burn it off. Not until he was satisfied they would behave themselves for the immediate future, at least. A few reminders during the denial that the other Prime was the reason for their suffering would do nicely to keep them at each other’s throats, too.

Megatron waited until both Primes had left the room to continue on down the hall, checking in briefly on the other members of his household. Most were in recharge, and those who weren’t were not unexpected. Tarn was seated in his berth with the dregs of his evening energon and one of the datapads from their little library, music playing softly from a set of speakers Megatron had never bothered to discern the origin of. Overlord was not in his room, but Megatron had seen him training before he came to make his rounds. If the triple-changer wasn’t carrying, Megatron might’ve sparred with him. The smaller of his Soundwaves stood at his music-mixing device, and Megatron took a moment to simply admire him from the doorway. Such absolute focus, every bit of power in the mech’s impressive processor dedicated to his chosen task. Now if only Megatron could draw that focus out in other situations.

He left before Soundwave noticed his presence, and made his way to the final door in the hall, his own. His engine purred happily as the door slid open to reveal a figure reclined on his berth, stylus in hand and personal datapad resting atop his knees. “Still working, Orion?” he asked as he moved to disengage the latches which held his cannon in place, resting the weapon against the foot of the berth.

“Mm, almost done.” his favoured partner smiled, giving him a gentle, chaste kiss as Megatron slid into the berth next to him. “We’re lower on energon than anticipated, the hunting party will have to head out tomorrow.”

“I’ll remind Overlord tomorrow that carriage is no excuse for over-fuelling.” Megatron promised, sliding an arm around the small of Orion’s back. It would be a shame, after all, if one of his strongest partners was encumbered by the carriage even after the sparklings were grown and moved out to live their own lives. Perhaps it was part of some scheme to get Megatron to spark him up more often, but Megatron doubted it. Overlord was probably just spending too much time and fuel training, since being taken off the hunting party roster and banned from the sparring room. Why the mech loved carrying so much when it kept him from everything else he enjoyed, Megatron would never be able to fathom.

“I heard fighting.” Orion said after a few moments of comfortable silence, and Megatron snorted.

“The Primes, again. I’ll leave them to stew in their own charge for a few mega-cycles.”

“Efficient as ever.” Orion smiled, field warming with affection as he subspaced the datapad and stylus and leaned into Megatron’s side.

“As you are diligent.” Megatron purred, sliding his hand down from Orion’s waist to rest on his hip, fingers rubbing absently at the armour seams there. “Perhaps my data-keeper desires a reward tonight?” he shifted his hand closer to Orion’s modesty panels, fingering the latches which only his command could unlock. Orion shuddered at the touch, but the pleasure which rippled through his field was fleeting.

“Recharging with you is reward enough.” Orion smiled up at him, and Megatron smiled back as he pulled the slender mech into his lap, hands easily encircling Orion’s trim waist.

“In the morning, then.” he murmured, bending down to mouth at Orion’s finials, savouring the spike of _pleasure want eagerness_ in his partner’s field at the contact. He could convince Orion, if he wanted to. He knew every pitch and tone and phrase that made Orion’s engine rev and his knees go weak, every sensitive seam and delicate cable. In five kliks he could have the mech sprawled on the berth under him, panels open, begging to be spiked.

He could, but he was tired. It had been a long mega-cycle, and come morning Overlord would be expecting him to provide their latest sparklings with more transfluid. So instead, Megatron simply laid back on his berth, Orion held close against his chest, and hummed softly. Orion freely nuzzled against his collar faring, field warm and open, radiating trust and affection. The Primes he kept in hand by force, infighting and punishments and sparing rewards. Orion, on the other hand, would be driven away by those tactics. Orion he kept close with a soft touch, quiet praises and controlled exposure to the untamed mountain which lay outside their door. So long as Megatron gave him no reason to leave, and no reason to think he could survive outside this household, Orion would remain here.

It was no grand army, but the mechs of his household were competent, and good frags besides. Perhaps in the future, if he found the energy to do so, he would start telling the stronger of his offspring to stay nearby. Contact those Constructicons in the forest again to build more housing for them, arrange hunts to find the Tesson nests, drive them out, take the mountains for themselves. But for now, this was enough. He was content.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like me to write a fic for you, come hit me up on Pillowfort! [[Link](http://pillowfort.social/GemmaRose)]


End file.
